A burst of adrenaline allows you to break free of the skeletons’ grasps and run out of your bedroom. You grab your phone on the way and hastily call 911, making up some story about an intruder in your house because you know they will not listen if you tell them the truth. You wait outside your house, shivering in the cold, and watch for the skeletons that are surely still there.
The police arrive quickly, bursting into your house to see if the intruder is still there. An ambulance follows them, and an officer takes you to the paramedics who give you a clean bill of health but wrap you in a blanket and urge you to get some sleep as soon as you can.
Sleep will have to wait, though, because the police want to take your statement at the station as soon as possible. A few stay behind to watch the house and check for any evidence left behind while the rest go back to the station. You are escorted to the backseat of one of the last police cruisers to leave.
You buckle in and pull the blanket around you tighter, but it does little to ease your nerves. For a few minutes, you sit in the backseat until nearly all the police officers have left, and finally one of them sits in the driver’s seat. He turns to check that you are ready to go, and your heart jumps to your throat.
The police officer isn’t a police officer. What sits there instead is another skeleton, its mouth twisted into a creepy grin under the blue police cap.
You fumble with the door handles, but they are meant to keep criminals from getting out without the driver’s consent. You are separated from the skeleton by a window, but that provides little comfort as it starts driving away with you captive.
You are not surprised when the car goes in the opposite direction of the police station, and your mind races as you try to figure out a way to survive. Surely, whatever the skeleton wants from you is nothing good.
The car finally rolls to a stop after ten terror-inducing minutes, and the doors finally unlock. That doesn’t help you much, because when you stumble out of the car you find yourself in a graveyard, nothing familiar in sight.
The skeleton gets out of the car and you see more emerge from the woods beside the graveyard. They creep towards you and your body reacts on instinct—you run.
You run and run and run as fast as you can, but the graveyard feels endless. The skeletons are close behind you, and you are tiring. Your feet are bare, you’re still wearing pajamas, and the ground is covered in twigs and rocky mounds.
You turn around to check on the skeleton’s progress and find one directly behind you. You scream and try to run faster, but your foot catches on a gravestone and you go tumbling to the ground—down, down, and stopping with a thump.
Your entire body aches, your leg feels broken, and as you look up to try to catch your bearings, a handful of dirt showers over you. You spit soil out of your mouth and raise your head, a scream ripping through your chest as you realize that you have fallen into a grave.
Dirt falls on top of you in handfuls and you can just make out the skeletons above you. The one that abducted you, the one in your closet, the one that you saw on the bicycle, is glowing. As you watch, it shimmers and begins growing skin. Clothes appear on top of the skin, and you realize that the skeleton is becoming you.
You try to fight, but it is too late. You are being buried alive, and there is nothing you can do to stop the imposter about to take your place in the world.
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